Narcotic Love
by TianZi
Summary: **Chapter 3 uploaded.** POV of Aya kun, his relationship with Brad Crawford and his feelings of being a assassin, as well as a leader of Weiss. Would he stay with Weiss when everything was over, or leave to live with Brad? PLs read and review.
1. Narcotic Love 1

+ Tittle Narcotic Love +  
  
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Written by PinkSpider  
  
Notes: POC of Aya kun. Takes place after the anime series.  
  
Pairing: BradxRan  
  
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The crimson petals of the rose lie softly on the ivory white of the piano, contrasting the purity of the cloth with the blood stained flower. Its life slowly drifting away even as it blossomed beautifully, its flushed color seemingly telling its admirers how its life is snatched away by the simple tug of a delicate hand.  
  
And you sit in front of the piano, playing some soothing melody of which I have never heard before, and yet sound so aching familiar. The soft pounding of fingers against the cool keys, the soothing tremble of the strands of the stings, the rhythmic flow of the music mingling so closely with the simple tune of the melody; so beautiful, so romantic. So tragic.  
  
Your fingers caress the ivory keys gently, the way you do when you touch me. Soft, gentle, yet knowing. Well, you should. You are the oracle after all.  
  
I sit beside you, mesmerized by the way your fingers dance on the piano, the way your eyes follow the rhythm, but always remain ahead of the melody. The way your body sways unconsciously to the music, the way the light reflects off your glasses, making them glitter, hiding the piercing gaze of your amber eyes.  
  
I felt tempted to lean closer, to savor your body warmth that is so seductively near to me. And the scent of your aftershave, a flavor so familiar to the market and yet so unique on you. But I resist, trying to be content with the knowledge that you are playing your inner most melody, for me. So I sit beside you, lost in the swirling pace of the dreamy trance you put me in, fallen so deep with your amber eyes and ebony strands.  
  
I close my eyes, touching the sorrow in the music and tasting the regret in the melody. This is your song, so why does it feel so much like mine?  
  
Surging through me is this need to hurt something, to hit something, to cut something so that all my hurt, all the hurt inside me will all bleed dry. But Takatori is died. There is no more reason for me to continue with this bloodshed, this need to kill, this need to hate. And this need to live. Aya is dead, Weiss is disbanded and Koneko closed. What further do I have to live for?  
  
Submerged to deeply in crimson blood, I have long lost my humanity. Maybe it is as you have once said; we are the same after all, Weiss or Schwarz. I can not live a normal life anymore, not matter how I wish. The guilt and regret and hurt and pain, hidden and suppressed so long can no longer be contained. It demands release, and in this state of me, I can't do anything to stop it. I am drowning in myself.  
  
I know, life of an assassin is short. It always is. And you and me are assassins. This is a fact we cannot deny. My life is too drenched with the life of others, too soiled in the darkness of my crimes. I do not have the privilege to ask for forgiveness now. And like you, I am chained to this life of terrible hell of regret and guilt. Love will do nothing here. It is just a painkiller, to numb the hurt every now and then, making life a little more bearable.  
  
I do not realize the music has halted until you come over and embrace me, your huge frame onto mine, your arms forming a protective cave with me in the middle. Your warmth seeping into me slowly as you pull me closer, melting me into you. Your head lean closer to my shoulder, your fine hair falling softly onto my cheek as you bury your head into the cradle of my neck. I shiver as you breathe my name down my neck, stirring the tiny hairs and making my skin sigh in delight.  
  
"Aya."  
  
That's just it. No words needed. Tonight, there is just you and I; no hurt, no pain, no regrets. For assassins, love is really just a narcotic drug. Hold me in your arms tonight, and let ecstasy numb this hurt we both feel. Let the moon and the stars be the witnesses of our love, no matter how hopeless it is.  
  
Love me.  
  
+ EnD +  
  
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My first try at a first POV. How's it? Please give me some comments? 


	2. Narcotic Love 2

+ Tittle Narcotic Love +  
  
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Written by PinkSpider  
  
Notes: POC of Ran. Shounen ai, hints of sex between two male characters.  
  
Pairing: BradxRan  
  
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The sky roared as it burst opened, bearing white hot flames of anger as it simmered slowly, awaiting for the next chance to strike, to choose its next victim and display its godly temper. The darkened clouds rolled into sight, hindering the raw power of the thunder's next strike, like a mother sheltering her child from the wrath of gods, willing to bear the resentment and the distaste of the immortals if it had meant protection and the safety of her child. Her cold tears, a heartbreaking symbol of her sin of defying the will of the heavens, showered earth with its sorrow and unyielding love.  
  
Another flash of pure sliver streaked across the softness of the gloomy clouds followed by the ear splitting clap that sounded, so hurtful that all the children wailed, and adults winced. Thunderstorms were torturing, so undisguised in its hatred for human kinds that it was almost a sin for anyone one to love it at all.  
  
And it was a sin for me to love the thunderstorm, just as it was a sin for a man to love a man. Yet it was something that I could not change, or rather, something that I was not able to change. Just like my life, so drenched in its ecstasy at the miserable fates of others, relishing in the crimson blood spilled by so many evil doers. But even as my blade sliced through the skin, the flesh, the bones, I knew that deep down, they were just humans, just fathers trying to get the best for their daughters and sons, husbands trying to please their wives with all the riches in the world.  
  
They were not evil. They were misguided. In that case, was I the evil one here? I failed in trying to convince myself that the killings I had done would save thousands and thousands of innocent souls. The image of a helpless child crying, trying to toss his little body into the flames that would soon consume all the sins that had been committed by his father, but held back by his crying mother haunted me. And the pitiful sight of a lady wrecked with grief but trying to be strong for her children. Was I wrong? I could not help but asked myself. Was I right in deciding that the mistake made by others was so wrong that they deserve the final judgment that I had served? Was I the savior, or the murder?  
  
I did not know. I was not sure if I wanted to know either. I had been trying to convince myself that what I had been doing was right, but the dreary, sickening feeling that accompanied with each slaughtering informed me otherwise. But I could not stop feeling this way. And in the end, I was just a hired assassin, a tool of the rich and powerful and a fool who believed the lies fed to him.  
  
I had sinned, had been buried so deep within my sins that I could find not way to atone for all the mistakes I had made. Maybe what you told me to do was right. Stop feeling. Concentrate on completing the mission, getting the commission, pay for imouto's hospital fees, to keep Weiss together and to continue to be a flower boy. Just continue to live until I died and got kicked into hell to be burned for eternity.  
  
In the mean time, let me wept in your arms for a while, under this thunderstorm, under the wrath of the gods. Let my cries be drowned by the roaring wind, and my tears concealed by the beating rain. Let me shiver in your embrace under the pretenses of the chill and for a moment, forget the boundaries which had held us apart for so long. Forget the missions, forget our responsibility, forget how to be strong for this minute and let me bare myself to you, let me be vulnerable in your arms. For now, we were just lovers, holding each other close to our hearts, cherishing the times we had together, even though it was stolen from fate herself.  
  
"What do I do now?"  
  
Your armani suit was getting as soaked as my clothes. I refused to feel guilty. At least, it showed that you cared more about me that your armani suits. I pushed the strangely satisfying thought out of my head and looked up. Raindrops trailed their way down my face, hiding the evidence of my tears. You looked back at me with your amber eyes, spectacles splattered by the crystalline droplets of the storm. Even so, you managed to look comforting, to me at least, in this demise I had managed to find myself in. You were the oracle; you knew everything that would happen. But it was not the knowledge that had made me feel secured in your presence. It was this indescribable feeling we both shared, the experience of being alone and desperate.  
  
"I am staying. They need me, or they won't make it at all."  
  
The words were hard and stiff, but the man who spoken it was not. I knew you truly cared for your team, not unlike me.  
  
" Then I'm staying too. I won't leave them just like that."  
  
"I know."  
  
Silence. Words were not required. So we stood, embraced like the forbidden lovers we were in the middle of a thunderstorm in a dark, narrow alley.  
  
"My place?"  
  
Your chest rumbled against my cheeks as you spoke, your deep voice sounding almost loving as you caressed my back. Both of us know that this would be one of the few times we could see each other without any responsibility holding us back. We were no longer enemies, but we were still the leaders of different teams with different principles.  
  
"Aaa."  
  
We walked back to the apartment you had bought. It looked the same since I last saw it, neat and efficient. The only luxury item in the apartment would be the white ivory piano residing at the corner of the living room, by the side of the ceiling to floor glass windows. You bought it because I liked listening to you playing the piano. I remembered feeling touched. It was my birthday then, wasn't it? You gave me a rose too. Another stolen moment from fate.  
  
The lights were not needed. The lightening was bright enough. We fumbled through the living room, making a mess out of the carpet as we dripped our way into the bathroom. You had kicked your shoes off at the front of the door, as I had, and was now pulling me into the clean, and spacious bathroom.  
  
You peeled off your armani suit, dumping the soaked clothes into a basket as I did the same to my own shirt and pants. Next were our undergarments, my boxers and your briefs. I watched the muscles on your back rippled under the harsh fluorescence light as you turned your back towards me in favor of adjusting the temperature in the shower. I was being a sentimental fool in asking you to meet me at the place where we had our first mutual attraction anyway, despite the rain. I had not thought that you would really show up. But you did. And I felt contented to know that I meant at least that much to you.  
  
I would be contented to watch you from the distance, but the weather was cold and I was wet. I walked towards you, wrapping my cold arms around your waist, my head resting lightly on your shoulders as you fumbled with the gadget with numb fingers. I watched as your spectacles fogged up as the steam started to rise from the hot water. I smiled. I never ceased to feel amused by the sight of you with fogged up spectacles.  
  
I took them off. You turned and smiled at me. It was the smile that was never shown to anyone but me, at least to my knowledge.  
  
You pulled me into the hot spraying water as you entered the shower, drenching us both with warmth, chasing away the chill of the rainy evening. The walls and the glass of the shower door were damp with the water vapor rising from the hot shower, making the walls slippery with the condensed water. You pushed me against one of the walls, kissing me even as the hot water continued its comforting shower.  
  
I closed my eyes, wanting to savor the taste of you, wanting to memorize the feel of your skin on mine until the next time we met. Or if we meet at all.  
  
My hands crept up along your sides, brushing them lightly as I caressed up your back, lingering a while at you shoulders blades before reaching up to the back of your neck and playing with the longer strands of your black, damp hair.  
  
Your arms slide from my hand to my waist, holding me up against you. As much as I hated it, you were taller than me, so I arched back with my feet tip-toeing, tilting my head back as you broke off the kiss before nipping your way to my neck. I let out a moan, knowing how much you loved to hear me voicing my pleasure.  
  
I didn't know which was hotter, the water, or us in the small, shower room. I wasn't too sure if the steam was just from the hot shower either. I only knew that you held me close throughout the whole night, your breath stirring the tiny hairs at the back of my neck as my back pressed against your chest.  
  
I fell asleep while listening to the rhythmic beating of your heart, wondering how long I would have to wait for the next encounter.  
  
That night, I had a strangely happy dream. In that dream, you told me you loved me. I knew it was just my imagination. You weren't the sentimental type, nor were you the type of person who was overflowing with love words. But the words felt real enough. Suddenly, I wanted you to tell me you love me. I want the confirmation of your feelings for me.  
  
But you were sleeping so peacefully, with the awakening rays of the morning sun glowing so gently on your relaxed features. I could not bear to wake you up, knowing just how rare a good night's sleep was to you. So I contented myself by watching you sleep, until the clock showed me it was time for me to go back and play the role of a leader, and tell the rest of the team what I had decided.  
  
I left you breakfast and coffee on the table, with a copy of the newspaper by the side of the seat you usually used. A post-it note was left on the table with a white rose as well.  
  
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Brad,  
  
Remember to take your breakfast before rushing to work. A white rose in return to the crimson one you gave me. Happy Birthday.  
  
Love, Ran  
  
+ EnD +  
  
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Since so many people have requested for me to continue this fic, and I am feeling a little bored at home. Well, this is another chapter. Hope you had enjoyed it. Please drop me a line at my email or post a comment to tell me if you want this series to continue.  
  
My thanks to:  
  
Yami no Tenshi Simply Kim Misura V0rT3XtRemE aNGeLz3x anamie bluerock-nakie  
  
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	3. Narcotic Love 3

+ Tittle Narcotic Love +  
  
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Written by PinkSpider  
  
Notes: POC of Ran. Shounen ai, hints of sex between two male characters.  
  
Pairing: BradxRan  
  
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If you really love someone  
  
You'll set him free  
  
Because you want him to be happy  
  
To be able to search for his happiness  
  
To find his own happiness  
  
Because his happiness cannot be found in you.  
  
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Even with her eyes brimming with tears, she forces a smile, as if trying to convey her deepest and most sincere blessing. She gazes in my eyes, her sight lingering, wanting to have a moment more of remembrance, so that she will be able to at least take a part of me with her always. Her eyes are like sapphire, glittering with warmth under the setting sun of autumn. In any other situation, the scene would almost be romantic, with the falling of the leaves from the trees growing along the sidewalk. It is almost a pity it has to end this way.  
  
" I wish you happiness."  
  
With that, she turns her back to me, slowly walking away from me. Of course. There is no longer any reason for her to stay anyway. I really should be getting on my way. Things need to be done; the flowers have to be watered soon, Omi will be coming home from school, dinner needs to be prepared, the house needs tidying up, especially Ken's soccer den..  
  
But somehow, I can't bring myself to move. So I just stand there, under the majestic tree which showers me with dried leaves, her last words still echoing in my head.  
  
'I wish you happiness.'  
  
Such noble words, but even from a distance, I can see her slight figure trembling with suppressed emotions, her long ebony hair flowing gracefully behind her as she starts from a walk, to a slow jog, to finally, a sprint; a sprint away from the heartbreaking reality.  
  
For the first time in a very long time, I feel guilty. Guilty for making her fall in love with me, guilty for allowing her to think that I returned her feelings, guilty for rejecting her, guilty for breaking her heart. I had known of her feelings for me, and yet I allowed her to continue, to sink deeper in this impossible love. I suddenly realize how selfish I had been. Just because she looks like Aya-chan, just because she was there when I needed her, because she comforted me when I was feeling depressed. I realize I like her, like having her around, like hearing her voice, like hearing her voicing her thoughts. But I will never love her the way I do you, never feel nervous when she is around, never feel the same quickening of heartbeat when I am with you, never feel the same completeness when I am with you. Never desire, if not you.  
  
So I stand under the tree of falling leaves, missing you. It has been a while since I last saw you. 3 months and 2 weeks to be exact. I have almost forgotten what your lips feel like, how your hands fit so perfectly with mine.  
  
Gazing off into the horizon where she has disappeared, I can almost understand what she feels. Love, after all, is the most complex feeling any human can experience.  
  
I wonder if I could be so generous and let you go when you cease loving me.  
  
Closing my eyes, I turn away from the sight of the empty walkway, strolling slowly back to the koneko, where dinner is still waiting, and the flowers still need watering.  
  
I will probably kill you, then kill myself, so that the promise that I have made to myself can be kept.  
  
'I will love you till the day one of us die.'  
  
So I will kill you to stop loving you. But I know I will still die in the end, because I can no longer live without you.  
  
+Tsuzuku+  
  
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Gomen. I did not realize that writing would be so difficult these days. My tutors are squeezing my imagination and free time dry with all the crap about family essay. Just finished a GP essay today on "Technology has had a significant impact of the family. Discuss.". I would probably flunk it. I suck at writing arguments.  
  
Argh. feeling stressed out. But know you guys had been waiting for a long time. Take it as a treat, or apology from me. ^__^'' It'll be a while before the next chapter though.  
  
And yea, I'll be going clubbing tomorrow. Haha.  
  
PinkSpider.  
  
Thanks to all who had reviewed and hence, encouraged me to continue writing. ^__^ 


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